The Card
by MoonlightGardenias
Summary: Random, pointless GSR Christmas fluff. Because somehow, I think we all need it.


**Author's Note: So they replayed the whole Doll episode sequece last night, and it got me to feeling depressed. I love Sara, more than I figure I'm supposed to for a T.V. character. The same goes for Gil, and GSR. So, this sort of came because of it. I've never really done anything for them before, but this one just would not leave me alone no matter how hard I tried. I think I did this one okay, but I had a tough time with the last few sentences, trying to tie everything together.**

**It's kinda fluffy, but these days us GSR-ers kind of need that, don't we? Anyway, please leave me a review and let me know what you think. Good? Bad? OOC? In Character? (There are some parts, especially for Grissom, that I was on the fence about)...let me know, please.**

**Disclaimer: Yeah, because there's this perfect chance that I'd actually own C.S.I. **

* * *

She wasn't sure what had urged her to buy it. But as she perused the aisles of the store, constantly plagued with sight of green and red, Sara had somehow found her way onto the card aisle. Though birthday and thank you cards seemed to be prominant, a large section was dedicated to Christmas. Raising her hand to reach for them, a card near the bottom caught her eye.

The front was simple enough. Gold, with a tree etched in silver. The words on the front sounded short and contrived, a simple "Thinking of you. Merry Christmas", almost made her set it down immediately, but when she opened it, she discovered that the inside was left completely blank. Somehow the thought of filling the inside seemed inviting, but a wave of guilt washed over her as she realized that she probably couldn't send anyone a card. Not that they would expect one, but even if they did, she wouldn't know what to say.

A thought crossed her mind that Sara simply could not ignore. She wasn't sure what the outcome would be, but she felt it was something she had to do. Going to the register, Sara rung up the card along with the rest of her purchases, and left the store. When she arrived at home that night, the trouble began. As she stared at the pallid white walls, she realized the small apartment she'd been renting didn't feel much like home. It was Christmastime, and even though she wasn't that big on celebrating, Sara couldn't help but wonder what it could have been like had she been there to celebrate with Grissom.

The faint smile that crossed her lips soon formed into a look of concentration as she propped herself up against the pillows, trying carefully to form the right words.

* * *

_Gilbert-_

_Holiday traditions these days seem so terribly contrived, and yet I couldn't escape the need to do this one. I'm not sure if you'll get this card in time, but if you do I hope you can send my regards to Greg, Catherine, and everyone. I hope that the holiday finds everyone, including you, Gil, happy and well._

_I'm sure that it's not exactly like you had planned. If you had a say, we'd probably be at the townhouse right now consuming fair amounts of eggnog, or perhaps reading a chapter from a favorite book. I'm not really sure what I'd rather be doing at the moment, but I can assure you that where I am now is where I feel I should be._

_Please do not take that the wrong way, though. I know that nothing went according to your plan, but I feel like I need to tell you how much I appreciate you. Despite everything that you have had to undergo because of me, you are still an incredible person. I know that I could have stayed, but for right now I need to be doing this for myself. Thank you, Gil...for understanding, and for being patient with me. _

_If anything, what I want for Christmas is for you to know that I love you. Regardless of where I am or what I'm going through, a part of me will forever be grateful for all that you have ever given me. It's the best gift that I could ever hope for. Merry Christmas, Gilbert._

_Love, _

_Sara_

* * *

He wasn't sure how any times he'd read it over. His hands kept running over her words, trying to capture what it was that she had been thinking at the time she wrote them. A thumb ran across the familiar scrawl of the name 'Sara', and it was then that he knew.

The distance had been killing him. Immersed in his work, Gil Grissom was a man who was fiercely dedicated to what he did. It was only fair of him to expect others to do the same, and he couldn't help but feel as if that was what Sara was doing. Still, he knew then that somehow, everything would work out.

"I don't know where you are, sweetheart-" Gil muttered into the silent air surrounding him as he lay on his bed. _Their_ bed, because he had hope that one day, Sara would return. "-but I love you, too."

Hearing his own voice sounding so calm and serene sent a wave through him. Sara. She had been the one. She was the one who made him think, who made him go over his words. In his life, Gil was affectionate only with his work. That was, until Sara Sidle came along. Things changed, and as they worked together, he began to realize just how deep the root she'd planted in his heart lay.

A small smile graced his lips as he read the words again: _"Merry Christmas, Gilbert"_-he'd gotten so used to 'Grissom', 'Griss', and 'Gil' that the sight of his actual name always seemed to hit hard. Sara had chosen to call him so, for whatever reason he wasn't entirely sure. But it fit; they fit.

Gil sighed as he shut the card, satisfied that he'd read it enough times to know it by heart. If there was anything that he'd be willing to do for a holiday, he knew it would be giving Sara what she wanted. She wanted to work through everything on her own, and he was letting her do just that. Never pulling her too close or pushing her too far away, Gil knew Sara meant every word she had written.

"Merry Christmas."

It was muttered to no one in particular, but as Gil set Sara's card on the nightstand beside the bed, he again wondered what she'd been thinking as she wrote. Though it was a ridiculous notion, Gil couldn't help but feel as if they'd both be thankful for the invention of blank Christmas cards.


End file.
